That Bloodred Stone
by sessha-chan
Summary: In a search for the Philosopher's Stone Edward is sent to a most unusual school. Can Edward create the Stone without sacrificing thousands? Can he do it without revealing who he really is? Can he do it and not screw up? HPFMA. AUish. Romanceless
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: in all honesty FMA is not mine in any way, shape or form. With the minor exception of the obsessive collection of merchandise that i have. Harry Potter does not belong to me either, also excepting my frightening collection of HP books of multiple covers. Thank you.

Note: I claim poetic license, so anyone who has a beef with anything that I've written, left out or got wrong, I'm not really going to care much. This story is done and I'm not in the habit of reposting reedited fics. Flames with be summarily ignored.

Note 2: this story is outdated by about 6 or 8 months now. It's been sitting on my conputer waiting for me to edit it. I finally got around to it! Be proud!! I admit that it's not my best, but it's also far from my worst!

**That Blood-red Stone**

Sessha-chan

It brings joy in sorrow,

victory in battle,

light to the darkness,

life to the dead…

That is the power of the

blood-red jewel which men honor with the name

"The Philosopher's Stone"

FMA Vol 3 Ch2. p.86

**Chapter 1**

Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, looked down at the report on his desk and bit back a laugh. Oh, the runt would love this, he thought with a smirk.

"Colonel?" First Lieutenant Hawkeye asked, drawing his attention away from the report, "What is it?"

"Get me Fullmetal. I have something that I think will interest him," he smirked over his interlaced fingers, his eyes half lidded.

* * *

"What is it?" Edward Elric asked, flopping heavily and rather haphazardly into a chair before his commanding officer's desk.

"Hello to you too, Fullmetal," Colonel Mustang greeted sarcastically. "Thank you for coming on such… short… notice,"

Ed twitched. "Cut the crap, Colonel," he snapped.

Colonel Mustang tossed him a folder. Ed caught it expertly. "This is a report I got a week ago. Apparently there is someone who knows how to make a Philosopher's Stone. And he runs a school,"

"You're kidding me," Ed sounded rightfully disbelieving. He flipped open the report and scanned the contents. "Magic? What a load of crock,"

"Nevertheless my informants are never wrong,"

"So this is the real deal?" the blond alchemist gestured to the file he held in his gloved automail hand.

"As real as the fact that I will be Fuhrer," Mustang said confidently. Ed snorted.

"Great. Guess I'm going to-" he checked the file for the name of the country, "Britain. Any idea how to get there, Colonel?"

He was tossed two more folders. "Those contain your travel itinerary and mission outline. Stick to both, Fullmetal," Mustang said seriously, "or else I might not get my promotion,"

Ed rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Guess I'll go tell Al," he said, standing to leave.

"Wait," Mustang stopped him before he could leave, "I was only able to arrange for you to go. Besides, Alphonse would be too conspicuous,"

Ed fixed his commanding officer with a cold stare, "What?"

"Al stays here," Mustang repeated firmly.

"Why?"

"Because he would be too conspicuous, as I have already said. And I am not sure that the rune binding his soul would be able to remain in tact while at the school,"

This made Ed pause in his fury. The Colonel had hit his weakness right on the head. "Fine," he conceded grudgingly, "But I'm going to tell him all about this,"

"Of course," Mustang nodded, "just be ready to catch the train to the coast on time. It took a lot of trouble to put together that itinerary, so don't mess it up,"

"Colonel," Ed looked back at him, suddenly suspicious, "you didn't happen to put this together, did you?"

"No. Hawkeye did it,"

"Thank goodness. Who knows what you would have done,"

Roy Mustang smirked at his diminutive subordinate's back as the Fullmetal Alchemist swung the door closed behind him. He could not wait to hear what Edward would do to the Magic School. Life was getting to be too boring around here anyways.

* * *

After a month of travel filled with trains, ships, more trains and an odd automobile of a make he had never seen before, Edward found himself sitting on yet another train. This one was scarlet, a close match to his coat actually.

Yawning, Edward stretched out his legs, scratching an itch he had just above the automail of his left leg. He had practically bought out the bookstore that he had purchased his school texts at when he realized the fountain of foreign knowledge contained within its walls. It was a good thing he could carry a lot of weight since the size (and mass) of his luggage had multiplied more than ten times over.

He laughed evilly and pulled out one of the required texts: _A Complete Guide to Transfiguration,_ and began reading. He had only managed to memorize half a chapter before the door to his compartment clattered open.

"Hello," said a young girl with bushy brown hair, "do you mind if we join you?" she asked. Ed shrugged and moved over to make room for the girl and her two friends. He hardly looked up from the book.

"Trust you, Hermione, to find another bookworm," commented the redhead ironically.

"What's your name? I haven't seen you around before," Hermione asked. Ed looked up from his book, blinking his gold eyes, allowing them time to refocus on the three unfamiliar faces.

"Edward Elric," he said. None of them showed any recognition. Backwater.

Hermione smiled, "My name is Hermione Granger. This is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter," Ed nodded to each in turn, not batting an eye.

"Are you a first year?" Ron asked. Ed snapped his book shut and glared tangible death at the boy.

"DO I LOOK LIKE A KID TO YOU?" he yelled, startling all three of them, "YOU MAKING A JOKE ABOUT MY SIZE? HUH? ARE YOU?" he clapped his hands together and in a flask of blue alchemic lightning his automail arm suddenly had a nifty blade attachment that shredded his white glove, revealing the cold steel, "YOU WANNA GO?"

"Holy crap!" Ron exclaimed, backpedaling quickly, holding up his hands defensively. Hermione retreated with him but Harry pulled his wand and stepped forward, between his friends and the irate alchemist.

"Calm down," he said firmly. Ed transferred his burning golden gaze to the Boy Who Lived. "It was only a question,"

Suddenly remembering the Colonel's warning, Ed twitched – most likely from having remembered even having to deal with Mustang at all – and stepped back, lowering his arm. He returned his arm back to normal and sat down to sullenly read his book. "Great," he muttered, "there goes another pair of gloves,"

"Blimey," Ron gasped, "What was that all about?"

Ed rummaged around in his coat pocket and pulled out a new glove. With an unpracticed and completely natural nonchalance he pulled the pristine white material over his steel fingers, covering the hand entirely.

"What's your problem," Ron demanded, just a little red in the face. Ed looked up.

"Don't make any cracks about my height and we'll get along just fine," was all he said.

"Touchy," the redhead muttered.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Hermione asked, half afraid that the strange boy would attack again. He did not.

"Nothing's wrong with it," Ed said, looking up, a passive expression on his face, "Winry just updated it before I left home. If anything was wrong with it already she'd have my head for breaking it again,"

Hermione looked confused, but not nearly as confused as Harry and Ron.

"Who's Winry?" she asked.

"My mechanic,"

"Mechanic?" Ron asked, "What's that?"

"Oh really Ron," Hermione sighed patiently as Ed shot him an incredulous look, "A mechanic is someone who fixes machines,"

"So it's a muggle thing?"

"Yeah, Ron, it is," Harry said wryly, amused at his friend's lack of knowledge.

"So why would you have a mechanic for your hand?" Harry asked.

Ed scowled. "Because I lost my entire arm when I was eleven,"

"Oh." Hermione paled. So did Ron and Harry for that matter.

"How'd you manage that?" Harry asked.

Now Ed looked down at his hands, "It was during a civil war. I was trying to save my younger brother," he lied with practiced ease.

"Oh." Now the compartment was filled with an uneasy silence. Ed picked up his book again and continued reading, intent on catching up as much as he could.

* * *

Ed closed the textbook and frowned darkly at its cover. Transfiguration was the one subject that was closest to the Alchemy he knew and practiced, with one glaring difference.

"What a load of crock," he scowled, putting it down on the seat beside him.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

Ed gestured to the book, "This transfiguration business is a load of unequal, impossible crock,"

"How so?" Hermione frowned, confused.

"It breaks all the laws. It completely disregards the laws of providence and the law of equivalent exchange. By all rights just practicing it should be enough to kill you. Slowly. There has _got _to be something I'm missing, but none of the books I've read even hint at how they bypass the laws," he said, thoughtfully tapping a cloth-covered metal finger on the leather cover of the transfiguration text.

"Laws? What do you mean?" she asked. Harry and Ron parroted the question as well.

"'Man cannot obtain anything without first giving something in return.' That is the Law of Equivalent Exchange. The Law of Providence states that you cannot make anything without the basic elements present," the alchemist frowned, "It's all very scientific. But nothing in this book should be at all possible without some sort of method of evening out the exchange..." he trailed off, muttering under his breath as he snatched up some of the other texts he had lying next to him. He flipped rapidly through the pages of one, dark gold eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper as he went. He plowed through three more heavy tomes with the same exactness. Nothing.

"What are you looking for?" Harry asked curiously.

"An explanation." Ed thumbed though another text. "Darn, this isn't helping. This school better have a good library,"

"Hogwarts has the best library in the entire Wizarding World," Hermione boasted.

Ed eyed her patiently, "Wizarding World?" he asked slowly, "it's in a separate plane than the rest of the world?"

"Well, no," she blinked, "Wizards and witches just tend to live apart from normal people,"

"Why? Isn't that a little prejudiced?"

"What do you mean?" both Harry and Ron had their attention fixated on the Amestrian and Hermione.

"Well, aren't you guys kinda like segregating yourself away from normal people just because you have a power that they don't?"

"But if they found out about us then they'd want magic to fix all their problems!"

"How do you know that?"

Hermione looked at loss for words. "It... it stands to reason. It's logical..."

"And since when were people logical?"

"But-"

"Give it up Hermione," Harry advised, "I think you've lost this one,"

Hermione huffed and glared out the window at the fields and occasional sheep. Ron and Harry exchanged an amused glance. Ed just picked up another book. He grinned to himself.

"So, where you from, mate?" Ron asked.

"Why?" Ed did not even look up and turned another page.

"Just asking," Ron frowned. Ed picked up a folder and flipped through the pages that were paper-clipped inside. His eyes lingered on one paragraph and he shrugged.

"Sorry, you wouldn't know the place," he said instead, putting the folder down again and returning to his books.

"Try us," Hermione challenged.

Ed looked up and smirked. His orders were to not tell anyone other than the headmaster of the school about Amestris and his mission. A child could see the loophole. "Born and raised in a village called Resembool. It's out in the boonies of nowhere and if Winry wasn't the best mechanic I know I'd never go back, it's that boring,"

"Don't you have family there?" Ron pressed.

Ed's movements slowed and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Al can take care of himself," he said at length.

"What about your parents?"

Ed closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut. His life was none of their business and he had no reason to spill anything more. Nosy brats. He didn't answer to anyone, with the occasional exception for the Colonel. Al was the only person who he would tell everything to and he wasn't here.

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Harry ventured after a full minute of silence on Ed's part.

"Why not?" Ron whined, sounding desperately like he wanted to pout.

"It's his business Ron, not ours," Harry shrugged and settled further into the cushioned seat.

For a brief moment, clearly he was more tired than he had originally thought, Ed considered thanking the black-haired boy. He swiftly stomped down that thought. What was the point, after all? When did he, Edward Elric, ever thank anyone when he could get away with just not? He was, after all, master of casual, fly-by courtesy. It just would not so to have his reputation ruined so soon in a new land.

So instead he tossed the useless book aside and picked up another.

* * *

Ed refused to allow himself to be interrupted for the remainder of the train ride. He kept his eyes firmly glued to the text in his books, still searching for the clue as to how inequivalent exchange was permitted at all. By the time the train pulled up to the station to let the students off he had waded through every single book he had bought on magic and still had yet to find an answer.

He packed the books back up into their respective suitcases, grumbling under his breath about useless detritus. So many books on how to do magic, the history of magic, magical theory, et cetera, and nothing on the subject he was pursuing. They were chock full of other potentially useful but currently unusable information.

At the moment he was regretting almost cleaning out that book store. The books would be interesting and handy to have around when it came to research but they were heavy. It was times like this when Ed wished – briefly – to have Major Armstrong along for the trip. Muscles like his, or Sig Curtis's for that matter, would have been handy. Of course, the desire was very short lived as he only had to recall the gratuitous amounts of pink sparkles that perpetually surrounded the Strongarm Alchemist before he viciously retracted said desire.

"Do you want help with those?" Harry asked, watching Ed stack hi many suitcases on top of one another.

Ed grunted something inarticulate, not bothering to turn and acknowledge the question. "Get going. I'll be after you soon enough," he said instead.

"You sure, mate?" Ron frowned, "You got a lot'a stuff there,"

"I can handle it," Ed insisted.

"That looks quite heavy,"

"Get going,"

Looking somewhat offended the trio left the alchemist to himself. Ed contemplated his predicament. He was prohibited from using alchemy in the view of these witches and wizards, something that had slipped his mind when Ron made an insinuated pass at his height, but Mustang had said nothing about using alchemy out of view.

Ed lightly clapped his hands together and gripped the edges of the top suitcase. Blue alchemical lightning raced from his hands to the luggage, reshaping, redefining. Soon, not a second later, every suitcase was securely attached to the next and the whole affair was resting on a set of wheels with a handle just waiting for its maker to use.

With a contented grin Ed gripped the handle and wheeled his luggage out of the compartment behind him. It was heavy, probably almost one hundred pounds, but to Ed, who was used to worse, the weight was merely an inconvenience. Al clocked in more and Ed could throw him... occasionally.

He manged to make his way through the throng of children all busy trying to disembark and staggered out into the dimming light of the dying day. He wheeled his suitcases behind him, trying to figure out where he was supposed to be going when he was approached by an upperclassman.

"You going to Hogwarts, young man?" the boy asked. Ed nodded. "The you don't need to take that with you. They'll bring it up to the castle later, you know,"

"Really?" Ed drawled slowly.

"Oh yes," the boy gestured around them, "You don't see anyone else with their trunks, do you?"

Ed looked around, taking note of the suitcaseless students milling about. He shrugged. Whatever. He wasn't going to leave his stuff in the hands of someone else. He thanked the student and turned away, intent on following everyone else to the school for magic. The boy called after him but Ed only waved a negligent hand over his shoulder.

It wasn't to difficult to figure out where to go next. Everyone seemed to be filtering towards a slew of ragged carriages pulled by...

Ed blanched.

What in the world were those? And what were the creatures driving them? The skeletal horses and decaying coachmen turned empty eyes on the students, observing them passively. None of the students gave them any notice. It was almost as if they could not see the grotesque creatures.

With great trepidation he approached a carriage and, discreetly using some alchemy, got his luggage onto the top of the carriage. He stilled when the driver turned to look at him but Ed only nodded hesitantly, unsure what he should do in this situation. The driver slowly nodded back before turning its attention back to the horse-creatures in its charge. Ed released the breath he had been holding. His heart beating rapidly he climbed into the coach and tried to settle down on the musty smelling seat.

"Who are you?" demanded a snotty sounding voice across from him.

Ed cracked open a golden eye and took in his traveling companions. The boy who spoke to him with such attitude was a shade of blond that bordered on silver. Flanking him, dwarfing him, were two brawny thugs who looked stupid enough that they wouldn't be able to uncross their eyes if they had instructions. None of them looked particularly pleasant.

"What's it to you?" Ed sniffed in disdain.

The aristocratic blond sneered and his bodyguards growled. "You better watch yourself here if you want to stay in one piece. Hogwarts isn't a place for mudbloods and muggle-lovers. If you're either you'd better watch your back."

While Ed had no idea what the boy was even talking about he could hear the disgust and hatred clear as one of Winry's rants. He just eyed the boys before pointedly folding his arms across his chest and closing his eyes, ignoring them. He could almost hear the platinum blond boy seething at the obvious snub. Well, he had nothing else to do at the moment. He might as well tick off the local hothead. It might even prove to be entertaining.

At length the boy spoke again. "You have no idea who you are playing with, do you?"

Ed cracked open an eye, "Do I look like I care?"

"You should."

"I don't." he closed his eye and slouched further into the musty seat. "Besides," he continued, "little boys shouldn't pick fights they don't have a hope winning,"

"Look who's talking,"

Ed's eyebrow twitched imperceptibly. He held onto his temper with will that outmatched his automail strength.

Remember your mission. Don't blow the mission. Remember the mission. Don't blow it! The mission! The Stone!! Don't blow it!

He grit his teeth and forcibly relaxed his muscles. He tugged absently at the glove covering his automail hand, reassuring himself that the cloth of both the glove and his coat sleeve obscured the unnatural metal limb. He futilely scratched at a phantom itch on his automail knee. He cracked open his eyes to shoot a ineffectual glare at the limb. With the air of someone vastly irritated he flicked his flesh fingers over the cloth, briskly getting rid of the wrinkles.

"Mustang had better be right about this place," he muttered, barely audible even to his ears.

* * *

Ed was delighted when the carriage ride came to a conclusion. At last he was able to get out of the oppressing company of his traveling companions. It wasn't even a problem getting his luggage down from the roof. He nodded again to the driver of the coach before starting up the stairs to the grand entrance.

By the time he was half way up Ed was ready and willing to transmute a nice easy ramp. At three-quarters he was unrepentantly wishing for Armstrong. By the time he reached the top he would have leaned against the suitcases if he had not wanted to make an striking first impression. So instead of giving in to exhaustion Ed strode forward.

At the door, smiling at all the arriving students, was an ancient man in... interesting robes. Stars glittered on deep navy and the trailing sleeves were trimmed with scarlet. His snowy beard fell down his front in an icy waterfall. Behind half-moon glasses his eyes twinkled merrily.

Ed didn't trust him.

"Good evening," the old man greeted, "I believe you wish to speak with me," it was a statement rather than a question.

"Who're you?" Ed asked casually.

"May name is Professor Albus Dumbledore, I am headmaster of this school," Dumbledore inclined his head a fraction.

"So you're the guy in charge?" Ed sized him up critically, "Edward Elric. Nice to meet you. And you're right. We do need to talk,"

"Why don't we do so in my office,"

"Sounds like a plan to me. Lead the way,"

Dumbledore smiled at the short alchemist. "First why don't we do something about your luggage. Leave it here and I will have it taken care of for you,"

Edward blinked and complied, releasing his grip on his possessions. "Alright then," he agreed.

"Good, now let us be on our way. I sense that we have much to discuss and the opening feast will commence shortly." the headmaster swept away into the castle. Ed trotted along behind obediently, warily taking note of everything that went on around him, from moving staircases to live portraits. By the time they reached Dumbledore's office, behind the statue of a griffin that leaped aside to 'Canary Creams,' Ed was feeling no little bit paranoid.

"How is it that you have so many souls bound here, old man?" Ed demanded when Dumbledore took his seat behind a cluttered desk.

"There are no souls bound in Hogwarts. We do have ghosts, but I assure you that they are free to come and go as they will. What you saw in the portraits was merely one aspect of our magic. Take a seat, Mr. Elric," he gestured to a chair opposite him. Ed gingerly sat. Golden tiger-like eyes locked defiantly with twinkling blue. "Now, would you like to explain why you have come to my school?"

Ed considered. He had memorized his mission information on the journey here, having nothing else to do for quite a while. Mustang had left this part of information dispensing at his discretion. It was his choice what he told his headmaster. At last the prodigy alchemist spoke.

"My name is Edward Elric. I am a State Alchemist in the Amestris army and am generally known as the Fullmetal Alchemist. My commanding officer sent me here after a lead he found on the Philosopher's Stone. My brother and I have been looking for it for four years now. Mustang's information says that people here knew how to make a stone and had in fact made one," he said matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore regarded Ed from over interlaced fingers. His face had gone from merry to thoughtful the moment Ed had mentioned the stone. "You seek the Philosopher's Stone?"

Ed nodded confidently.

"Why would you seek such an object?"

Even though he had known the question might come up Ed still winced. He steeled himself against his emotions, those crippling memories. "I have to atone for what I did. The Stone is the only way to use alchemy and bypass the Laws,"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely waited for Ed to continue.

"We, my brother and I, ignored the first taboo of alchemy. We foolishly thought that we had everything we needed for the transmutation. We had researched everything we could, even going over our father's work. But we paid for our pride." a hand tightened over his metal knee. "The Gate of Truth demanded payment from us. I lost my leg in payment. Al... Al lost his entire body. I paid with my arm to bind his soul to this world so we could rectify our mistake. That is why we need the Philosopher's Stone. Even if I have to die trying I will get Al's body back to him," he closed his eyes and looked away, trying to regain his composure.

"I see," Dumbledore said quietly. "This is grave indeed. You have traveled far, Mr. Elric, to chase a rumor. It is probably fortunate that you have run into one of the few people that has actually created a stone."

Ed looked up sharply. "You have a Stone?"

"No," the headmaster smiled ruefully, "It was destroyed only a few years back. But I still have all of my notes on how to make one,"

"You do?" for the first time in a long while true hope crept into Edward's burning gold eyes.

"But first we must explain your presence to the faculty and students. They are sure to notice you wandering around the castle, since I would wager that it is rather hard for you to fade into the background,"

Ed blinked at the suddenly amused man. That was a complete misnomer. "Uh, okay. What should we tell them?"

"How skilled are these 'State Alchemists?'"

"Only one passes for every exam issued, if that. We're the best of those who want to join the military," Ed shrugged, "The military only keeps on the best and most cutting edge. I haven't come across many other alchemists that were more skilled than myself or my teacher,"

"Is that so," Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully. "Are there schools for alchemists in Amestris?"

Ed shook his head. "No, not that I've ever heard of. People usually are taught through apprenticeships and their own study. At least, that's how Al and I learned,"

"I see." the headmaster pondered his options, "How would you feel being what is called a 'grad student,' a student who has graduated already and is continuing his education to a higher degree, a researcher if you will? Your presence will be explained away by the excuse of a research paper,"

"That could work," Ed said thoughtfully, mulling it over.

"Then it is settled. I shall have someone escort you to your rooms after the feast. But in the meantime we must be going or else we will be late. And you do not know terror until you have to deal with children denied a meal," he laughed, sweeping to his feet and leading the way back out of the office. Ed hauled himself to his feet and obediently followed.

Once they had reached one of the antechambers adjacent to the Great Hall Dumbledore asked Edward to wait. He explained what went on before a feast, the sorting of the new students, and he wanted to introduce Edward after that event. Ed had no problem with that. After Dumbledore left the small room Ed transmuted himself a comfortable stone chair from the floor. He sat down and started mentally reviewing what he had read.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: in all honesty FMA is not mine in any way, shape or form. With the minor exception of the obsessive collection of merchandise that i have. Harry Potter does not belong to me either, also excepting my frightening collection of HP books of multiple covers. Thank you.

Note: I claim poetic license, so anyone who has a beef with anything that I've written, left out or got wrong, I'm not really going to care much. This story is done and I'm not in the habit of reposting reedited fics. Flames with be summarily ignored.

**Chapter 2**

"What do you think happened to that kid from the train?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, "Not a clue. He just vanished."

"Really, who cares about that stuck up boy," Hermione sniffed, still sour that she had lost an argument.

"He didn't seem all that bad, Hermione," Harry defended the absent alchemist. Hermione did not deign to answer.

"But really, what do you think he was doing on the train? I can't see him anywhere here and he didn't look like a first year," Ron continued.

"Didn't sound like one either," Harry agreed.

Their discussion was interrupted by Professor McGonagall leading a procession of timid first years in. Harry smiled fondly at them, remembering how nervous he had been when he had to be sorted. The sorting moved along without any hitches. Professor McGonagall had the affair down to an art form, herding the children into doing what she wanted of them.

By the time Dumbledore stood to address the student body all thought of the boy they had met on the train had fled from the minds of Ron and Harry. Hermione, on the other hand, was dwelling.

"Good evening, children," he said grandly, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. It is a great pleasure to see every one of you. Before we begin our feast there is an unusual matter of business to take care of. Edward, if you would," he turned to face a door to one side of the head table. A ripple of hushed voices ran through the hall as the students – and faculty – caught their first glimpse of the stunning alchemist. Ed ignored everyone as he strode confidently out to stand casually before the head table, facing the students, his hands shoved into his pockets. "This," Dumbledore continued, "Is Edward Elric, a well-known scholar that has come to our humble school on a research tour. He has already graduated with honours and is currently working to further his expertise,"

There was a scattering of confused applause and Ed nodded graciously. He scratched his nose and surveyed the students before him, choosing his words carefully. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he started affably, "My name is Edward Elric. It will be my pleasure studying your ways of 'magic' here at this school," he nodded again when he finished and turned to Dumbledore, a question in his eyes. The headmaster gestured to the four house tables. Ed shrugged minutely and sauntered to the closest one, one decorated with copious amounts of red and gold. He had the good fortune to sit next to a pair of identical twins.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mate," they said in tandem.

"Thanks," Ed said with a wry smile. "Quite the place here, isn't it?"

"Oh," started one twin.

"I don't know," continued the other.

"It's home, I guess," they said together.

"You guess," Ed laughed with them, "Nice to know it's that easy to get used to,"

Dumbledore ran through the usual announcements. It seemed as if he were not expecting anything noteworthy – other than Ed – to happen at his school. There was the updates to the list of banned items, a warning not to go into the Forbidden Forest and the introduction of the newest Defense Against the Darks Arts professor. Professor Strange stared down her long thin nose, regarding her students with a critically disdainful eye. Ed eyed her with a hint of distrust.

But soon enough food appeared on the long tables and the sounds of cutlery clattering against dish ware and eating filled the hall. A loud buzz of chattering children rose.

"So where you from?" asked a girl sitting across from Ed.

Ed shrugged, eying the food warily, "Resembool," he said, timidly helping himself to mashed potatoes.

"Where's that?"

"Far away from here," was the only expansion on his original answer.

"That's not very helpful," she grumbled. Ed shrugged helplessly. It wasn't supposed to be helpful. He had orders – not that he cared what Mustang wanted of him – not to speak of Amestris or his position as a State Alchemist. There was only one person he had been permitted to tell the entire truth (with some discretion) to, Albus Dumbledore. For everyone else Ed got to play a harmless game of deception.

"So where did you learn magic?" asked one of the twins.

"From Izumi-_sensei_," Ed shrugged. Magic. Hah! "She took me and my brother in as apprentices and taught us for a year or so. After that we studied on our own and a couple years ago she acknowledged that she could teach us nothing more. Now I'm here," That worked. It was the truth, just not his entire life story.

"You didn't go to a school?" breathed another boy that was listening in.

"Nah. People learn better in a one-on-one situation. Back home people get apprenticed out. Most people spend years building their skills but Al and I were acknowledged as masters by the government years ago," he boasted around a mouthful of vegetables.

"So you're good?" asked the other twin.

"Guess you could say that," Ed was the very model of humility.

"So what kind of stuff do you do? I mean, like, what do you specialize in?" asked the first twin.

Ed smiled enigmatically, "I can't tell you that," he said with patented false cheer. "If I did then it wouldn't be any fun,"

"Aw!" complained both twins.

"Besides," the blond alchemist reasoned, "I'm not here to show off. I'm here for research. That should keep me busy enough,"

"What would you want to research here if you're already a certified wizard?" asked the girl.

Ed almost twitched. He was _not_ a wizard, he was an alchemist. But he could not say that here. "There is something that my brother and I have been searching for. We've both been doing research everywhere we could. I just happened to end up here,"

"So where's your brother now?"

"Probably haunting some library back home," he shrugged.

Suddenly a procession of translucent ghosts floated through the walls of the Great Hall in a practiced formation. Ed squeaked and almost jumped away from the table, his eyes fixated on the spirits. His mouth moved, unable to voice his internal dilemma.

"Hello Fred, George," greeted one ghost dressed in an outlandish, outdated outfit.

"Hi Nick," the twins grinned. Ed stared at them.

"H-how?" he managed at last.

Nick turned to smile warmly at the alchemist. "I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Are you a first year?"

Ed twitched. "Who are you calling so little he could pass for a child!!" he growled dangerously. Sir Nicolas was taken aback.

"I assure you I did not intend any insult," the ghost apologized.

"He's already graduated, Nick," explained the second twin.

"He's here on research," added the first.

"Already graduated? How old are you, young man?"

Ed scowled darkly, debating on whether or not he should answer the ghost how had already been inked into his bad-books. "Sixteen," he said after a long minute.

"No way!" gasped several people who had been listening in. They were silenced by the cold fire that burned in Edward's eyes.

"How long has it been since you graduated?"

"You some kind of genius or something?"

"When did you start your schooling?"

"You're kidding, right?"

The questions continued. Ed could feel his patience fraying. Everything about this school was just so intrinsically wrong. It rubbed his nerves the wrong way. He pushed his plate away and stood, gaining the attention of many students as well as teachers. With deliberate care he kept his mouth shut as he walked over to Dumbledore.

"Sir," he said stiffly, "I would like to speak with you after you have finished your meal, if that is not too much trouble,"

Dumbledore nodded, willfully ignoring the odd looks the teachers and students were giving Ed. "Would you like for me to assign someone to show you the way to my office?"

"Whatever you wish,"

"I assume you don't plan on staying here as the students finish their meals,"

"No," Ed shook his head slowly, his bangs swaying in front of his eyes. The candlelight enhanced the glow that was the unnatural colour of those irises. "I think it would be best if I were to leave the castle entirely for now. I will be outside,"

"Very well," Dumbledore inclined his head with a smile. Ed nodded smartly and spun on his heal, marching darkly out of the Hall. He hauled the heavy door open without any aid and closed it quietly behind him. A confused buzz rose from the students, echoed internally by most of the teachers. Through it all Dumbledore just smiled benignly.

Outside the Hall Edward had punched the stone wall with his automail hand. The shock of the impact reverberated down his spine to his toes and back up to the base of his skull. He stood stock still for several long seconds before opening his eyes.

"I hate this place." he decided out loud. "Nothing makes sense, nothing is _right_,"

"Now that's unfair," remarked a portrait, "Everything can make sense if you study it well enough,"

"Shut up!" Ed snapped, glaring, "You shouldn't even be able to talk or move! It's impossible without there being a soul attached,"

"Maybe there is," the portrait mused. Ed slowed, his mind racing.

"Maybe..." he eyed the living painting curiously. "But not now. I have an entire year here, don't I?"

"That's the spirit!"

Ed shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled outside. The night air was chill and there was a breeze coming from the direction of the mirror-like lake. Above him in the sky stars were partially obscured by scudding clouds. Something howled in the dark forest just as Ed sat down on the cold stone of the steps.

"For I am an Alchemist in a Strange Land," he laughed to himself and sighed. Tilting his head back he stared up at what he could see of the stars. It did not seem like very long before his solitude was interrupted by someone coughing lightly behind him to get his attention.

"Yeah?"

"I'm supposed to take you to the Headmaster's office," said the stuffy boy. Ed noted the badge pinned proudly to his black robes. The badge had a large 'P' on it. As he hauled himself to his feet Ed wondered what the 'P' stood for. Prick? That seemed to suit this particular boy.

"Lead on," Ed sighed, slouching a little. It had been a very long day that would not end for several more hours yet.

Again he was led through the castle to the Headmaster's office. The student offered the password to the gargoyle statue and motioned for Edward to go on ahead of him. Ed trudged up the stairs and knocked smartly on the door at the top. He was called in right away.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, peering expectantly at Ed over his half-moon glasses. Ed helped himself to a chair, making himself comfortable.

"You have some questions, Mr. Elric?"

"Yeah. You can start by explaining why there are so many souls bound to this place,"

"I told you before that there are no souls bound to Hogwarts,"

"And I'm telling you that there are. Trust me when I say I know what a bound soul feels like. Every painting I've seen so far has at least a portion of a soul bound to it. Then there are the ghosts and the castle itself. Souls are not meant to stay in this world after their body has died. To dabble in that is strictly anathema for a good reason," Ed's eyes narrowed, "And I think I'll need someone explain to me _exactly_ how it is you do this 'transfiguration' stuff,"

Dumbledore regarded Edward carefully. "You are a very observant young man, Mr. Elric," he commented. "Very few people know exactly how the portraits move and why the ghosts haunt this castle. Most do not care to question, and simply accept. I cannot tell you why they do so, for the simple fact that I do not know the answer. As for transfiguration, I will request that professor McGonagall go over that subject with you, as it is her field of expertise."

Ed nodded. He wasn't happy. He wanted answers now, but life often did not give you what you wanted. This was an acceptable alternative course of action.

"Now, I have some questions of my own," Dumbledore sat back in his char and laced his fingers together. "You say that you are a 'State Alchemist.' What does that mean?"

"You're lucky that you're the one asking," Ed smiled, amused, "Since you're the only one Mustang has authorized me to tell all to,"

"I'm rather flattered," the headmaster laughed.

"A State Alchemist is an alchemist that has taken the State Alchemy exam and passes, earning himself a place in the army. I've been a State Alchemist since I was twelve, four years now. Because I'm in the army I have a working name, if you will: the Fullmetal Alchemist," he explained.

"Why that?"

Ed slid the sleeve covering his right arm up. Silver metal alloy flashed brightly. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed.

"My left leg is automail as well. I lost them while walking where man is forbidden. And the Fuhrer has a twisted sense of humor,"

"Those limbs are artificial? Interesting,"

Ed covered his metal arm again, self-conscious. "I was stupid and now I'm paying for it. There's nothing more you need to know,"

"You had mentioned needing to atone for something. May I inquire...?"

Golden eyes dimmed and flicked down to fix on the floor. "There is a reason why raising the dead and tampering with souls is forbidden. But my brother and I were too confident. We had everything perfect, all the proper ingredients, the perfect array, and the power. But no matter how much you are prepared there is nothing you can transmute to make a soul other than your own. Al and I tried to resurrect our mother. We ignored everything our teacher had beat into our heads." he closed his eyes, emotional pain welling to the surface. "We were stupid. Equivalent Exchange demanded Al's entire body and me leg. I bound Al's soul to a suit of armor, exchanging my arm. In the end it was a failure. We had only created a monster that could not even live. People don't usually survive the folly of human transmutation so I was heralded as a genius since the Truth gave me the ability to preform alchemical transmutations without an array." he shook his head, scowling, "I must be the stupidest genius to ever live,"

"Even geniuses are fallible humans, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said softly. "I am sorry for your loss,"

"It was years ago," Ed stomped down on the misery and longing that always accompanied thoughts of his mother. "I just want to get Al's body back,"

"So you want the Stone. Now, tell me, what do you mean when you refer to alchemy,"

Ed looked up and blinked. "You can make a Philosopher's Stone but you don't know about alchemy?"

"I have a feeling that our versions of alchemy differ," Dumbledore smiled.

"Well," Ed shrugged, "Alchemy is the process in which transmutation is conducted. There are two basic laws that govern all of alchemy: the law of Equivalent Exchange and the law of Providence. Roughly it all means that you can't make anything without giving something of equal value in return and you can't make something of one thing, like metal, out of something that does not share the same element, like water."

"Would you care to do a small demonstration?"

"Sure, whatever," Ed shrugged and clapped his hands together. Placing his palms on the stone floor confidently, his face lit up by the blue crackling energy that raced to do his bidding. Slowly but with confidence he lifted his hand, the stone rising with them. From the floor was created a statue of a rampant horse. He fondly stroked the neck of his creation before turning a confident gaze towards the old wizard. "Basic transmutation,"

"Impressive,"

"I won't be doing a lot of it here," Ed warned, "Strict orders not to unless it's absolutely unavoidable,"

"Very well, I can understand that,"

Ed returned the floor to its original state and flopped back into his chair.

"Now, we have set your luggage up in one of the guest rooms. I do hope that it will be to your liking. But the hour grows late and I do believe it would be best if we talked more tomorrow,"

"Alright with me," the alchemist shrugged.

"Then let me show you to your rooms,"

* * *

Whatever Edward had expected this certainly was not it. He had gotten used to what the military thought of as 'living quarters' which consisted of one room with a bed and a desk. And a chair and bookcase if you were either lucky or important enough to warrant.

The rooms that Edward had been assigned consisted of a sitting room/study, bathroom and bedroom. The sitting room was loosely divided into two sections, one for entertaining and one that revolved around a empty bookcase and a scrubbed desk. There were three plush chairs that were arranged to face the warm fire burning brightly in the fireplace. Inside the bedroom was a soft bed and a small table with a lamp on it. The windows overlooked the forest and a corner of the lake.

More than Ed had expected.

His luggage, the whole fused mess of it, had been left in one corner of his bedroom, waiting for him to unpack it himself. With a light clap of his hands and a flash of blue energies the luggage was separated and ready to be worked on. He unloaded all of his acquired books onto the shelves of the bookshelf. And then he had to make another bookshelf for the spillover, insetting it into the wall above the desk. He thought he felt something in the castle ripple when he transmuted the wall but he could not be sure. When he was unpacked, his few possessions – sans the amount of books – stowed away carefully, neatly, Edward sat down on the bed.

"Now to get some sleep, Ed," he said to himself, "You can tackle this problem tomorrow,"

* * *

_Omake!_

Ed had sat down at the closest table, one decorated with gratuitous amounts of red and gold, when Dumbledore continued with his speech:

"And now before we start our meal let us sing the school song!"

The blond alchemist raised an eyebrow as the headmaster waved his wands and bright golden ribbons issued forth, twisting themselves into words that hung in the air. Another problem, he thought, narrowing his eyes distrustfully.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune now!" Dumbledore instructed with a cheery smile.

And the students started singing...

Ed listened, horrified, to the terrible song, the cacophony that the students caused by singing it.

_'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please, _

_Whether we be old and bald_

_or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot.'_

Ed just sat there, his eye twitching. Only one thought made it through the dead silence that had invaded his mind: That's it, they've exchanged their sanity to do all this impossible stuff!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: in all honesty FMA is not mine in any way, shape or form. With the minor exception of the obsessive collection of merchandise that i have. Harry Potter does not belong to me either, also excepting my frightening collection of HP books of multiple covers. Thank you.

Note: I claim poetic license, so anyone who has a beef with anything that I've written, left out or got wrong, I'm not really going to care much. This story is done and I'm not in the habit of reposting reedited fics. Flames with be summarily ignored.

**Chapter 3**

Sunlight filtered through the window, pooling on the exposed stomach of a certain alchemy prodigy. He muttered something underneath his breath and rolled over to his side. Doing so brought the the sunlight directly in the path of his closed eyes. Ed wrinkled his nose and sighed. Time to wake up.

Morning was not something Ed was in love with, so it was no surprise that he had managed to sleep until just hours before noon. With a muttered curse – since he had _hoped_ to wake up sooner – he rolled out of bed and pulled out a clean change of clothes. Nothing different from what he usually wore. Why should he change that? It's not like anyone in this part of the world recognized his trademark style.

He ran his left hand through his hair, feeling out and dealing with the tangles. One thing he had learned right away was that one with an automail hand should not try to use said hand to do their hair without a glove covering it. Hair tended to get caught in the joints and it was both a pain and a haircut to get free. With practiced ease he braided the long mess of gold threads and tied it off with an elastic. That done he checked over everything he had done. Clothes, check. Hair, check. Gloves, check. Boots, check. Attitude, double check.

Looked like everything was in order.

He opened the door to the hall outside his rooms and almost tripped over a small creature hunkered down, waiting. Ed stared down at the ugly thing wondering if it were some kind of chimera. It looked up at him with saucer-like eyes and a kicked-spaniel expression. And it was wearing a tea towel of all things...

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

"Sent, I was," it spoke clearly in a high pitched piping voice. Ed stepped back, shocked. "Sent to take you to Headmaster, I was,"

"Were you?" he narrowed his eyes at the it, his still sleep-mazed mind slowly trying to accept what was happening. "Whatever. Lead the way,"

The creature scampered down the halls, Edward hot on his heels. He studiously ignored the murmuring portraits that lined the halls. Again he was led to the stone gargoyle and again he made his way up to the old man's office.

"Ah! Mr. Elric," Dumbledore exclaimed happily as Ed let himself in.

"Sorry I'm so late," Ed apologized halfheartedly, "Slept in,"

"Understandable, considering how far you have come. Now, I have arranged a meeting for you with Professor McGonagall just after midday meal, if that is alright with you,"

"Sounds fine with me," Ed shrugged indolently, "Should I bring anything?"

"Questions would be helpful," Dumbledore laughed.

"Sure, those I got in spades," he smiled, amused. "How long until lunch then?"

"Only two more hours. If you wish then we can have something brought up from the kitchens for you,"

"Nah," Ed waved a glove-covered hand, "I can wait. I would like to be shown where your library is. I heard one of the students say it was the best in what you call the 'Wizarding World.'"

Dumbledore laughed some more, "That's true enough. The library here at Hogwarts is the most extensive collection of magical texts in all of Europe. And we should get you a map of the school, now shouldn't we?" he started shuffling through papers.

"It might help," Ed agreed amiably.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore found what he was looking for. Ed eyed the worn parchment warily. Black lines of ink covered one side of it in a mess of illogic. The headmaster waved his wand over it once, muttering something Ed couldn't catch.

"Here," he said, handing the map across the desk to Ed. Edward accepted it and quickly studied it. "I believe there is only one other map of this school because our school tends to change shape every once in a while. Don't worry though. This particular map had been spelled to keep up with the current changes and you will notice that I have keyed it to you so you should always be able to find yourself,"

Sure enough, Ed noticed, there was a little dot sitting in the middle of a room labled 'Headmaster's Office' with 'Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist' beside it. He noticed that several rooms were labled. There was the Great Hall, Slytheryn Dorms, Griffindor Dorms, Hufflepuff Dorms and Ravenclaw Dorms among others.

"Neat," he nodded, locating the Library, "Two hours till lunch?"

"That is correct,"

"Guess I'll see you there, then," he said, getting to his feet, "Thanks for the map,"

* * *

Ed sighed. The library was not as extensive as the ones he was used to having access to but it would have to do. A woman, he assumed she was the librarian, scuttled out from behind a bookcase and peered questioningly at him.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Sure, I guess. You could point me in the direction of everything you have on the Philosopher's Stone,"

"The..." she stared down at him, her eyes narrowing, "Young man that is _advanced_ alchemy. It is nothing for children to dabble in,"

"Who you calling a child!?" Ed hissed, holding up a cloth-covered metal fist. His eyes flashed dangerously and the librarian took a surprised step back.

"Young man calm yourself!"

Ed forced down his irritation with iron-clad willpower. "I'm not a student here," he said, a hair short of snapping at the bookish woman. "I am here on research,"

"You mean to say that _you_ are the researcher that has come here to Hogwarts?" she looked down her long nose at him, clearly taking in both his lack of years and inches.

"Yeah, that's me," he crossed his arms defiantly, "I'm Edward Elric,"

"Madame Pince," she sniffed, clearly unimpressed with his show of defiance, "The headmaster said something about you coming around. I had not expected you so soon, Mr. Elric,"

"Nothing else to do here," he shrugged.

"You are interested in the Philosopher's Stone?"

"That's what I asked for,"

The librarian turned to pace between the tall shelves of bound books. "May I inquire as to why this particular subject?"

"I'm curious as to how people here make one compared to how it is made back home," was all Ed would say. Before he committed himself to making a stone here he had to know what it would cost. If it was the same price as what he was familiar with then making a stone was unfortunately out of the question, again. If that was the case then Edward was back at square one.

"So you want the process entailed in making a Stone?" she raised her eyebrow at him. Ed nodded.

"That would be helpful, yes,"

"There is not much on the actual process of making a Stone. Most of the books on it are in the restricted section. I will have to ask you to have a note from the Headmaster before I can permit you into that section. Until then..." she ran her finger over the spines of some books, peering intently at their titles. At last she selected two and handed them to Edward, "These should have at least the basic theory for you to go over,"

"Thanks," Ed smiled and flipped the top one open and started to read, even as he made his way to a table. The library was empty, not surprising considering that it was first day of classes and no one had to do any research just yet. He settled himself comfortably into a waiting chair, with practiced ease slipping into a position that would be comfortable for hours of stationary reading.

* * *

"Good afternoon," Ed said, sliding into an empty space on the bench at a table decorated with liberal amounts of blue.

"Hello," said a bespectacled boy beside him. "You're that guy from yesterday, right? The researcher?"

"That's me," Ed helped himself to some of everything before him, heaping his plate high.

"Is it true you're only sixteen?" asked a bright-eyed girl across from him.

Ed shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"So, how did you manage to graduate so early?"

"Huh?" he looked up, confused, "What do you mean? Oh, that. Just worked hard, I guess," he started shoving food haphazardly into his mouth and pulled out the book he had taken out from the library. Everything around him was lost as he immersed himself into the knowledge found written in near illegible script on its pages. He only vaguely registered the fact he had finished what had been on his plate in the back of his mind. Absently he turned a page and refilled his plate, his eyes never leaving the book he was reading.

Halfway through his second plate Edward paused, his finger hovering over a passage in the book he was reading. He reached for another book he had tucked underneath the text and flipped it open, fishing a pen out of one of his coat pockets. He scribbled quick notations onto the blank pages of his notebook. Elaborate arrays and calculations filled the space that his notes did not. Those students who could see what he was writing exchanged confused glances.

"What are you writing?" asked the boy next to him.

"Notes, obviously," Ed said distractedly.

"Yeah, but on what?"

"I'm studying the process in which energy can be solidified into a single object," Ed explained, sketching out another array next to a mess of calculations. It was a fancy way of saying he was researching the Philosopher's Stone without actually saying it.

"Looks complicated"

"It is," he inked in the last curving line in the array and inspected his work. "Yeah, that looks about right for this theory. For now."

"What are the circles for?"

Ed hesitated, "They're, uh... they're a condensation of notes that has been developed where I studied. Essentially they're pages of notes coded into a design of circles and runes. Why?"

"I've just never seen anything like them before," then he gestured to the calculations, "What's up with the equations?"

"Energy input and output. It's the short form of the long form that these arrays are for, in a way," Ed hesitated, "But... darn!" he scratched out a section of equations and started over. He nibbled on the end of his stylus, glaring irritably at the offending equations. "I can't believe that it's this complicated already," he complained _sotto voce_.

"You're energy thing?"

"Yeah..." Ed checked over his revised equation critically. "This looks better." And with that he went back to reading, tuning out everything once more. The Ravenclaw students exchanged impressed glances. And here everyone in the school thought _they _were bookish. This foreign scholar beat them when it came to hitting the books, hands down and without contest.

All too soon the midday meal was over and Edwards was the only one left in the Hall, still absorbed completely in the book he was studying. A professor in bottle green robes made her way across the hall

"Mr. Elric?" She asked, frowning slightly when he did not even acknowledge her approach. Ed looked up, blinking owlishly as his eyes refocused.

"Yes?"

He looks so young, she thought, how on earth could he have already graduated? "My name is Professor McGonagall,"

"Oh! Right!" he shoved a bookmark into the book he had been pouring over and gathered his things, "I'm Edward Elric. Mr. Dumbledore arranged a meeting for me with you. Sorry, I completely lost track of time,"

"It's quite alright. I understand you have some questions for me,"

"I do," Ed stood and looked up at the professor seriously, "Where do you want to talk?"

"I'm sure we can find an empty classroom," she decided and led the way out of the Great Hall. Ed followed, having to walk briskly to keep up. McGonagall took him to a deserted classroom and Ed made himself comfortable sitting on top of a desk, his automail ankle tucked underneath his right knee.

"I do have a couple of questions to ask you," Ed admitted, "I was reading up on your transfiguration stuff and I was somewhat confused."

"Oh?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

"How is it _exactly_ that your transfiguration is done? How is it that you manage to bypass the Laws that govern the world?" he started, "I have read every book I had on the subject but I could not find anything that answered the question of how this was managed,"

"What are these Laws you speak of?"

Ed stared at her. "You don't know about the Laws? The law of Equivalent Exchange and the law of Providence?" At her blank expression the alchemist pressed onwards. "The Laws that govern everything in this world. Something cannot be gained without something of equal value being exchanged and something cannot be made out of dissimilar elements,"

"You're speaking of muggle science," she deduced.

"It applies to more than just science," Ed sighed, thinking rapidly, "Perhaps if you described exactly what you do in order to transfigure things I might be able to figure out where the exchange happens..."

* * *

"Well that was unenlightening," Ed complained to himself after McGonagall had gone to her next class. He had had the poor professor explain the theory of transfiguration in minute detail for the past hour without any success in figuring out how the feat was accomplished. Now he sat in the same deserted classroom, glaring over at the chalkboard. Too bad the enigma did not have a simple answer, or at least, an apparent answer.

"Right," he said, slipping off the desk he was still sitting on, "Back to the library. I'll accost someone else later and have them demonstrate this 'transfiguration' stuff,"

After tucking his books firmly under one arm and shoving his hands into his pockets he made his way back to the library. He did stop once in a while along the corridor to take peeks at the backs of some of the portraits, trying to catch a glimpse of something that would give him a hint as to how they had life. No luck, not to mention a couple of offended paintings.

Back at the library Edward found himself a comfortable niche and curled up with his texts and notebook, jotting everything of interest down in his shorthand code. To the untrained reader it looked like Ed was writing a diary on his travels. But to someone practiced in deciphering and reading code Edward's notes were much more interesting. Between the calculations, the arrays and the notes on the speed that the train was going as it sped out of Central, Ed's notebook was looking most intriguing.

Edward ended up spending the rest of the day right there in that corner of the library, pouring over the two books that Madame Pince had found for him. He had to wade through a lot of magic mumbo jumbo that he did not quite understand but the librarian had been right, these books covered the bare basics once you could see through all the detritus.

One thing he had learned, to his relief, was that the Philosopher's Stone was created differently here than it was back in Amestris. What was required was not yet said in the either of the two books he had fleeced but it was not the dozens upon dozens of living human sacrifices that Ed had feared.

The sun had sunk itself down past the horizon without Edward realizing. Madame Pince had to roust him and shoo him out of the library for dinner. Ed scowled at being interrupted but thanked her anyways since he was getting a little hungry.

Once he made it down to the Great Hall he had to slip in as quietly as he could since the meal had already begun. Only a couple student and teachers noticed his tardiness. He slipped silently into the closest unoccupied seat and helped himself to the waiting food. It did not take half a minute before he had garnered a small audience watching in amazement as he literally inhaled his meal. Food disappeared at an alarming rate, hardly pausing to be chewed before it was swallowed.

"You're going to choke, you know," warned a girl that looked oddly familiar to Ed. He must have met her somewhere before.

"Haven't yet," Ed retorted in between bites.

"Luck will only last so long," she sniffed.

Ed eyed her, pausing and raising an eyebrow. "Have I done something to you that I don't know about?"

"It's just disgusting eating like that," she sniffed.

"Wait," Ed stared at her, "You're that girl from the train, aren't you?"

"He's finally remembered you, Hermione," a red haired boy laughed.

"Oh, hey," he apologized, "I'm sorry about that. Hadn't slept in a couple of days."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione brushed him off.

"You sure? Al would have my head if he knew..." Ed trailed off.

"Knew what? Who's Al?" Asked the black haired boy from the train.

"My younger brother," Ed frowned and pulled out his notebook, a thought occurring to him. "Excuse me,"

Hermione peered at his notes, blinking in surprise at the complex figures that took up so much room on the pages he had turned to. "Is that your work?" she asked.

Ed shrugged, taking out his pen and writing down another equation underneath the ones already on paper. Once the math was down he sketched out another array and jotted down a note about the time it took to walk from Granny Pinako's house to the nearest government maintained road. Writing in code came naturally to the alchemy prodigy and he hardly even noticed when he wrote it anymore. He still had a hard time understanding that Al had a hard time reading his code. It was so simple.

"What are the equations for?" Hermione leaned a little closer to get a better view.

"Energy theorem," Ed answered, absently adding another line to the new array.

"Amazing!" She breathed, "I can hardly follow it at all,"

"That's got to be new for you Hermione," Ron joked. Hermione shot him a long-suffering glare.

"Really Ron," she huffed.

Ed looked over at the bushy haired girl, cocking his head to one side. "You the resident smartypants here?" he asked innocently. Hermione's face flushed an embarrassed pink.

"That's her," Most everyone around them agreed.

Ed nodded. "I understand now. Yeah, this is my work. If you can understand anything I have written here you're smarter than anyone else I've ever come across. Even my own brother, Alphonse, can't understand my research," he laughed, "And considering he's always been there helping me with it that's a strange thing, don't you think?"

"So... you're like, really smart then?" asked one of the boys across from him.

"Intelligence is objective," Ed shrugged, hedging the question with practiced ease. Back home everyone knew the Fullmetal Alchemist, the boy-prodigy who had passed the State Alchemist's exam at the tender twelve. That beat the previous record by four years. Here no one knew of him or his exploits. It was both refreshing and frustrating. He couldn't just drop his title and get preferential treatment but no one expected him to right all their wrongs. Equivalent exchange.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," Ed leaned back a little, "One person may be able to paint beautifully but wouldn't be able to do math to save their soul. Another person can rattle off cutting edge theorems with little thought but wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a masterpiece or a child's drawing. Are either of them any less intelligent?"

"No, people are all smart in their own ways," Hermione answered, "I read a paper on something like this back during the summer. It was on something called the Multiple Intelligences,"

"You've read of them?" Ed raised an eyebrow, "good for you,"

Hermione preened, "It was really very interesting, how he categorized the different intelligences and how to tell them apart."

Ed shrugged, "I personally haven't read the paper. Where I'm from multiple intelligences has been accepted for ages, we hardly even think about it anymore. _Sensei_ was really good about teaching how Al and I learned best, even if it did get us a couple of nasty bruises and scars," he laughed to himself, ignoring the odd looks he was getting.

Hermione eyed the foreign scholar with newfound respect. They really had gotten off on the wrong foot. Edward Elric was more interesting than she had originally thought. Defiantly more to him than that pretty face.

* * *

"Mr. Elric," Dumbledore greeted the diminutive alchemist, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Ed sighed, blinked heavily. He had been staring at cramped handwriting for too long. Hadn't these people discovered the printing press yet? "The librarian says that she can't show me any more of the books on the Stone without a pass,"

"You mean the ones in the Restricted Section, am I correct?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right,"

Dumbledore regarded the young blond carefully. "The books can wait until tomorrow, Mr. Elric. Get some sleep and see me after breakfast. Do you want me to send a house elf to wake you?"

"Sleep?" Edward blinked up at the headmaster. "Right, yeah. That sounds good. Thanks,"

"Good night Mr. Elric,"

"Night," Edward waved a hand at Dumbledore as he retreated into the corridors that led to his rooms. Every once in a while he would pause and lean against a wall, closing his eyes. The old man was right, he was exhausted.

"Are you alright?" asked a familiar voice.

Ed cracked open an eye. It that girl... her... herm... herm-something. "Yeah, I'm fine," he pushed away from the wall. "What are you doing up this late?"

"Returning some books to the library," she held up a stack of three thick tomes. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to bed," he shrugged, "It's been a while since I've had to decipher that much bad handwriting. Mr. Dumbledore said I should get some sleep before I fall over," he laughed. "I don't think I've ever fallen over form over-studying but it's not like I have much of a time limit this time,"

"Do you do this kind of thing often?"

"Often enough. I'm practically a professional researcher back home. When I'm not running errands, that is,"

"I've been meaning to ask you," she hesitated, "but where are you staying? You're not in any of the dorms as far as I've heard,"

"Nah, the old man set me up with some rooms of my own just down the hall and around a couple corners," Ed waved in a vague direction ahead of himself.

"Old man?" Hermione blinked, "I don't think I've ever heard someone refer to professor Dumbledore like that before,"

Ed shrugged, "He's not my CO, not that I give _him _any more respect."

Hermione did not understand what Ed was talking about but she frowned when she noticed how slack his posture was. "You are _really_ tired, aren't you?"

"Probably why the old man told me to get some sleep," he shrugged again.

"You should do that," she urged.

"Yeah," Ed nodded, "Night,"

"Good night," she said, watching as he meandered down the dimly lit corridor. She shook her head and turned back in the direction of the library. Edward Elric sure was an odd character. Nice, in a rough-around-the-edges kind of way, but there was something about him that seemed out of the ordinary.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: in all honesty FMA is not mine in any way, shape or form. With the minor exception of the obsessive collection of merchandise that i have. Harry Potter does not belong to me either, also excepting my frightening collection of HP books of multiple covers. Thank you.

Note: I claim poetic license, so anyone who has a beef with anything that I've written, left out or got wrong, I'm not really going to care much. This story is done and I'm not in the habit of reposting reedited fics. Flames with be summarily ignored.

**Chapter 4**

There was a strange occurrence in the school of Hogwarts, something that had not happened in the entire known history of its existence. For the first time there was one thing that members every house agreed upon.

Edward Elric was a looker.

Not that he ever bothered to notice. The young alchemist constantly had his nose stuck in some book, taking notes that no one could read. There had never been anyone so oblivious to a raging fanclub as Ed was. He was constantly followed by girls wherever he went. He was never alone anymore in the library. He was accosted in the halls with questions about his personal life. They practically stalked him, making an official Edward Elric Fanclub complete with meetings and membership dues.

And Ed did not even notice.

"Blimey, it's not fair," complained Dean one day at lunch. "Why's it that he gets all the girls? What's so great about him? He's always reading those books, he never _does_ anything!"

"And he looks like a girl!" added Ron, "Not even Bill looks that girly with long hair,"

"Well," Hermione pointed out, "He _is_ attractive,"

The boys stared at her in horror. "No, not you too Hermione," Harry gasped dramatically.

Hermione frowned at them, "No. I was merely stating an obvious fact. He's attractive, smart, a mystery. It's no wonder that so many girls are infatuated with him,"

"Sounds like Hermione's got a crush too," Ron teased.

"Really Ron, I do not have a crush,"

"You sure? You sound like you like him," Harry agreed, smiling in amusement.

She sighed and packed up her books, "If you boys can't remember that I have better things to do than crush on someone then obviously you don't want help studying for the test in transfiguration,"

Over the cacophony of protests Edward's head snapped up. His eyes followed Hermione as she stood and stalked away from her friends. Quickly he gathered his things, almost dropping the book on potions mixing he was wading through at the moment, and dashed after her, startling many of his dedicated stalkers.

"Hermione!" he called after her, "Wait up, I need to ask you something,"

Hermione paused, looking back over her shoulder, confused. "What do you need?"

"How much free time do you have?" he asked, catching up to her and slowing to a walk.

"Why?"

"I need someone to help me with a little research I've been meaning to do," he ran a hand through his hair and frowned down at the floor for a second. "I've been trying to figure out exactly how it is you do transfiguration here since it doesn't work with any of the Laws and I need someone who can do it and do it well. I hear you're one to ask,"

"I guess you could say that. What do you need?"

"Just someone to transfigure stuff while I observe the process," he shrugged, "You alright with that?"

"It's not a problem for me," she said, "I need more practice anyways,"

"So what time would be good for you to meet?"

Hermione thought about it. She had a full timetable and much of her spare time was spent on homework. "How about Saturday?" she asked at last.

"When?"

"After breakfast?"

Ed nodded, "Meet up in the Hall?"

"Sure,"

"Thanks, this'll be a big help," he smiled brightly, bid her good day and jogged down the corridor. Hermione watched as he vanished around a corner, a small smile playing upon her lips.

A sudden shiver ran up her spine as she felt the chilling glares of many ignored fangirl.

* * *

By the time Saturday arrived Edward had exhausted every text the library had on the making of the Philosopher's Stone and had moved on to Dumbledore's own notes on the subject. He was pouring over one such notebook that morning as he inhaled his breakfast. Loose paper took up most of the space on the table around him, spilling over onto the bench as well, thwarting the scheme of many of his fangirls. His formerly pristine while gloves were stained with black in from all of the writing he had done, not even sparing himself a moment to clean them either with alchemy or without. He had circles under his eyes from staying up too late many nights in a row.

"Edward," Hermione moved some of his papers so she could sit down next to him, "You don't look good. Are you sure you should be up?"

Ed looked up and over at the witch. "What are you talking about? This is the best lead I've had since before I realized what following Marcoh's research would require,"

"I'm not even going to pretend to understand what you're talking about," Hermione frowned, "But to be honest you look terrible. Have you been sleeping? Have you done _anything_ other than research?"

"Uh..." Ed thought about it, "No?"

"Honestly," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, "And they say that I'm bad,"

"Hey," he protested, "I can't slow down now. I'm closer to getting the answer now than I have been since I started looking for this,"

"And what is it that you are looking for? Every book I've seen you with has been from the Restricted Section up until two days ago and that looks like Professor Dumbledore's handwriting,"

Ed looked down at the book he was taking notes from. "The old man lent it to me, why? It's only basic stuff, for me at least,"

Hermione's bugged out, "_This_ is basic?"

Ed shrugged, "Hey, you're talking to the guy who was acknowledged as a prodigy when he was ten. I understood things then that most adults had a hard time grasping even after years of work. This is basic,"

"I'll take your word on it," she said, sounding unsure. "Anyways, you said you wanted me to help you with something dealing with transfiguration..."

"Oh right, thanks for reminding me," Ed marked his page and started packing away all of his work.

"Why are you working so hard on this anyways?" she asked innocently. Ed slowed for a second, his expression growing distant.

"My little brother is... unwell. No one can help him so I'm looking for a way to fix what's wrong with him, see if I can do it myself. I'm sure I can, I just need to find the right method..." he frowned, getting to his feet, "But that's not what I wanted your help with. I have a problem with this transfiguration stuff and something about it has been bothering me. I talked to that professor about it, what's her name? McGonagall? Yeah, well, she couldn't help me so I was thinking I'd work on it myself with some help."

"So what do you need me for?"

"To transfigure stuff, of course,"

Hermione eyed the blond scholar warily. Ed just grinned and led the way to a deserted classroom.

Now to start field research.

* * *

Ed fiddled with his stylus and stared blankly at the paper before him. He had hardly gotten a start on this report he had to write when his mind had started to wander. His current predicament was him trying to stay on task while still mulling over theories and suppositions for the many projects he had signed himself up for. The bound souls, the transfiguration and making a Stone, it was taking more energy to keep everything straight than he had anticipated. Hermione was right, he had pulled far too many late nights and all-nighters.

He put his pen back to the paper and started writing again. Four years of writing mission reports gave a guy a little practice. Writing reports was like writing in code to Edward: he could do either in his sleep. Now, whether or not they would be legible would be another matter entirely.

What was there to report on? He had made considerable progress in this new method of creating a Philosopher's Stone. He had made no progress as to the mysteries of the transfiguration and the many bound souls. The schoolgirls were getting on his nerves with their constant stalking.

Ed scratched out the last one. The last thing he need was Colonel Mustang getting it into his head to come to Hogwarts to 'check up on' him. That leach wouldn't pass up the opportunity to try his hand with schoolgirls.

This draft was a mess. Edward pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and started copying out a cleaner copy. He tried to keep his handwriting as neat as possible.

When the report was finished Ed checked it over for mistakes before folding and sealing it. That done he could now get on to some more personal business. He pulled out another sheet of paper and started writing his brother.

_Dear Al_

_How are you doing? Things are going well here. I've been able to learn a lot about this new method of creating a Stone. If things keep going the way they have been I should have the process complete in two more months. I'm keeping out of trouble so don't worry. Tell Winry and Granny I say hello. We'll see each other soon._

_Ed._

Ed sighed and folded the short note as well, placing it on top of his report. One more thing to write. Out came another sheet of paper. This time the Fullmetal Alchemist wrote in code.

_For this recipe you will need three cups of milk, one cup of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, an egg and a pinch of salt. Beat the egg into the milk and add sugar. Beat until dissolved. Add spices. Pour into baking dish and place in preheated oven. Sometimes baking at high temperatures can burn the pudding. If you want it to come out well you should add less sugar. If you need the sugar the you must lower the temperature by approximately fifty degrees. Bake for an hour or until golden brown._

_Share with your closest friends._

He folded the message and labeled the outside 'The Recipe I Promised You' before adding it too to the stack of mail to sent. That done he leaned back in his chair and stretched. One hand absently undid the tie on his braid and he combed through his long hair with his naked flesh fingers. Only in the confines of his rooms did he undress enough to bare his arms to the open air. His coat hung over the back of another chair, his gloves decorating the cushioned seat below it. He had kicked his boots off by the door, leaving his feet bare. If anyone knocked on his door Edward would have to redress himself very quickly. But at the moment he was beyond caring. It had been a long day and all Ed wanted to do was unwind.

He got up from the deck and flopped gracelessly over a overstuffed chair and stared into the dancing flames in the hearth. The light reflected off his golden eyes unnaturally. His fingers absently traced invisible arrays on the upholstery. When he caught himself he laughed. He had been working for to long today. It was time to get some sleep. Well, at least he got the reports done and a letter to Al written. In the morning he'd have to have to ask the old man how he could send them to Eastern from here.

* * *

Hermione noticed that the further Edward got in his research the less sleep he seemed to be getting. There were dark circles underneath his eyes that had not been there when they had first met. He was constantly writing in that notebook of his, drawing those 'arrays' and doing so many calculations it made her head spin. The only time he pulled himself away from his research was when he studied her transfiguration. She spent almost all Saturday changing one thing into another. But Edward only seemed to get more and more frustrated, as if there was something he was not quite understanding.

"Wait," he said, interrupting her train of thought, "Do that again,"

"Do what?" Hermione stilled, looking over st her observer, confused.

"That transfiguration. Do it again," he picked up a matchstick, "But this time turn it into exactly this one,"

She studied the matchstick curiously then pointed her wand at the needle. The needle turned into a matchstick and Ed leaped off the desk he was sitting on with a triumphant whoop. Hermione stared at him as if he had grown a second head, wondering what on earth he was going on about.

"What? What is it?" she asked, feeling bewildered.

Ed snatched up a teapot. "Change that paperweight into this teapot now. I have to make sure,"

"Make sure of what?"

"Just do it please," he stared into her eyes, excitement dancing and brightening the gold of his irises into a living fire. Hermione sighed and turned to the paperweight. "This exact teapot," Ed urged.

Hermione, not understanding what had him so excited did as he asked. She transfigured the paperweight into the teapot that Edward had been holding. Whens he turned to show him the newly formed teapot her eyes widened.

Edward was holding the paperweight.

"I finally figured out the secret to this transfiguration business. No wonder," he laughed, tossing the paperweight into the air and catching it, "No wonder you people could 'bypass' the Laws! You weren't changing anything, you where exchanging. It makes so much more sense now. You exchange some of your energy to satisfy the Law of Equivalent Exchange and just pull a swap,"

"What? No..." Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, "that can't be right,"

"You try it. Change whatever you want into something already in this room," Ed waved an arm to indicate everything they could see.

Hermione frowned and turned to the desk beside Ed. She pointed her wand at it and it swapped places with its chair. Her eyes widened. She tried changing a potted plant into a cage that was hanging five feet away. They switched places.

The pattern continued.

"Edward... do you realize what this means?" she asked at last, standing in the middle of the classroom in amazement.

"That you guys abide by the rules after all?" Ed quirked a wry grin at her. "Man, this is turning out to be a great week!"

* * *

"Mr. Elric, are you certain you wish to proceed with this now?" Dumbledore asked gravely. Edward was staring intently at his latest array.

"Better sooner than later. Doing it this way is much better than doing it the way I first came across. Might as well take advantage of that," he clapped his hands together and pressed them to the floor. Blue light flared up for a full second before dimming back down. A complex black array now decorated the gray stone. "Besides, there's no time like the present," he tossed the headmaster a confident smirk before kneeling down in the center of the array. He placed his palms over the flowing black lines, lighting them up once more.

Dumbledore watched in amazement as the alchemist started his own version of the spell that he and Nicholas Flamel had worked on for years. If the boy survived then he truly deserved the title of genius.

Blue alchemical light filled the small, out of the way room they had prepared just for this occasion. Edward's clothing and hair fluttered upwards, trying to race away from the energy that emanated from the array below. Edward pushed as much energy as he possibly could into the array, feeling it leaking out of him at an alarmingly fast pace. He had to push himself to his limits like never before for this, drain his energy to a hair before the edge that would kill him.

One misstep would be all that it would take...

He kept channeling and compressing as much as he could. Something started to form before him, floating innocently in the rushing air. Ed's eyes widened at the first glimpse of his success. This spurred him to redouble his efforts and the forming Stone grew.

After what seemed like an eternity Edward cut off the flow of energy. He slumped to land heavily on the floor, the metal of his automail arm clattering deafeningly loud in the sudden silence. Perspiration ran down his skin in steady rivulets. He gasped for breath, feeling more exhausted than he had ever before in his life.

Dumbledore knelt beside Ed, saying something that the alchemist could not quite make out. Everything was going fuzzy, his vision, his hearing, even his grip on what he could feel. He was just so tired...

So tired... he wanted to sleep...

* * *

Ed woke up in an unfamiliar room in a strange bed to an even odder sight. He pulled himself upright, noticing that someone had allowed him to retain his long sleeves and gloves. Looking around the room confirmed that the strange assortment of flowers, boxes of candy and other presently unidentifiable objects spread to more than just the bed beside him.

"What on earth?" he muttered. He shook his head, trying to clear out the odd vision. It did not vanish. So instead he swung his legs out from under the covers and tried to stand. His legs gave out on him and Ed found himself clutching at the mattress, kneeling on the floor beside his bed.

Edward scowled and tried to push himself to his feet once more. He could hardly push his upper body back onto the bed.

"What is going on?" he growled, frustration showing through, "Why can't I stand?"

"You current are experiencing acute energy drain, Mr. Elric," said a patient voice. Ed looked over and noticed a neat and tidy matronly nurse striding towards him, "The Headmaster would not tell me what you did to get yourself in such a condition. What were you doing trying to get out of bed yet? You won't be able to walk for another day. There is little I can do for a drain this severe. You almost killed yourself Mr. Elric,"

"I did?" Ed blinked. Did he make it? Hand he made a Stone? Would this humiliation be worth it?

"Yes. You did." she hauled him up and settled him back under the blankets. "Professor Dumbledore said that you made it, whatever that is supposed to mean. He will want to see you. Are you feeling up to visitors?"

Ed blinked at the MediWitch. "You mean Dumbledore?"

"There have been a few more people than just the Headmaster who want to see you, as you can see," she gestured to the plethora of get well soon gifts.

"Who are they from?" Ed asked.

The MediWitch raised an eyebrow, "They are from your fanclub, your many admirers, the entire female student body. Whatever you wish to call them,"

"Why?" Ed was really feeling rather slow at the moment. He shook his head, "Never mind. I want to speak with Dumbledore if he's not too busy,"

"I'll go fetch him now,"

"Thanks," Sighing, the alchemist leaned back into the pillows that propped him upright and closed his eyes. He concentrated on breathing slow and deep until he head the telltale sweep of fabric against stone that heralded the arrival of the headmaster.

"Ah, you have awakened, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said approvingly. "It took you a full three weeks less time than it took me. You truly are a prodigy,"

"Yeah, thanks for the confirmation." Ed sighed, cracking his eyes back open, "How long was I out and did it work?"

"Three days, and your fanclub missed your sorely. And yes, it did work." he reached into his robes, pulled out an innocent red stone and handed it to its maker. Edward accepted his Stone with great reverence. He held it up, allowing the light to catch on its surface, causing it to glow. Power thrummed beneath its surface, power that Ed was intimately attuned to.

"It worked," he breathed, "It worked..."

"That it did. What will you do now?" the question was asked in hushed, careful tones. Edward sighed, smiling softly.

"How long before I'll be back to normal?" he asked.

"Given your rate of recovery I would hazard a week,"

"Plenty of time." Ed nodded, "I want to get Al back into his own body as soon as I can. It's been too long for him. It took me a month to travel here. If I send a letter to Mustang now asking him to bring Al here..."

"You would have a month to recuperate," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "You wish to preform the feat here?"

Ed nodded, "Yeah, far away from prying Amestrian eyes. There are far too many people who want to know why my specialty is kept under lock and key. Only the Fuhrer, the Colonel and Lieutenant Hawkeye know. Everyone else just... they don't know." he trailed off with a heavy sigh. His eyelids were falling despite his greatest efforts to keep them pried open.

"Sleep, Mr. Elric. You will find yourself tiring easily over the next day or so,"

Edward nodded slowly, his flesh hand clutching the Philosopher's Stone.

* * *

When Edward was released from the Hospital Wing he found very quickly that he had to actually work to slip past the many waiting girls in his fanclub. There were a few close mishaps but he ultimately made it to his rooms without being seen by anyone female. He slumped into one of his chairs, panting. This was so humiliating, to be out of breath this easily.

He noticed something on his desk that had not been there before. So, gathering his strength, he pulled himself back to his feet and padded over to fetch the letter.

It was from the Colonel. Ed resisted frowning. He opted for opening it instead.

_Fullmetal,_

_It is good to hear from you at last. I had not expected such results from you in such a short time. Please don't think that I think little of your skills it was just that you had estimated two months in your last report. _

Ed gave into his urge to frown. Could that man not lay off the short jokes even for something like this? Evidently not.

_I will bring Alphonse as well as Lieutenant Hawkeye, as you requested. You had better have a good reason to do this so far away, Fullmetal. It was a handful getting the higher-ups to agree to let me go. _

_See you when we get there._

_Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist._

_P.S._

_Al says to say hello. As does Riza._

Now Ed smiled. Two out of the three coming he could stand. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult to endure...


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: in all honesty FMA is not mine in any way, shape or form. With the minor exception of the obsessive collection of merchandise that i have. Harry Potter does not belong to me either, also excepting my frightening collection of HP books of multiple covers. Thank you.

Note: I claim poetic license, so anyone who has a beef with anything that I've written, left out or got wrong, I'm not really going to care much. This story is done and I'm not in the habit of reposting reedited fics. Flames with be summarily ignored.

**Chapter 5**

"What's wrong Ed?" asked Harry one day a couple of weeks later at dinner. Edward was poking listlessly at his plate of food, staring off into the great beyond. He had taken care to make sure his clothes were clean, his hair neat, his gloves white. This effort had not escaped the notice of his fanclub and every one of them was wondering if some one had caught his fancy.

Ed looked up, frowning, "What do you mean?"

"You haven't eaten anything, Mate," Ron said, pointing his fork at Ed's plate.

"Must not be hungry," the alchemist shrugged.

"Not hungry? You?" Dean exclaimed, "Now we know he's sick,"

"Very funny," Ed rolled his eyes. "Nah, I just got a lot on my mind right now,"

"Like what?"

Ed scowled. The boys around him exchanged a glance. Edward may have been voted the best looking boy ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts but he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. There was something about him when he was upset that screamed DANGER.

"What is it?" Hermione prodded, "And don't say it's nothing Edward. You've been dressing neater, actually looking up from your books and you've started keeping track of the date."

"I've finished my research," he said, trying to steer the conversation.

"That's wonderful. But that doesn't explain your behavior," she was immovable.

"Sure it does. It means that pretty soon I'll be going home,"

"Really? No!" exclaimed many eavesdroppers. Ed looked around him, suddenly aware of the wide eyes staring right at him. Disturbed, Ed turned back to Hermione.

"Yeah, I just have one more thing to do here before I go home. I've been away long enough. Winry's gonna kill me for not writing to her..." he chuckled nervously, visions of flying wrenches dancing though his mind.

"Who's Winry?" asked Harry.

"A friend of mine," Ed shrugged, "I think after I've... healed my brother she and him will get together. Right now they can't. But they're really perfect together,"

"What's wrong with your brother?" asked Dean curiously.

Ed hesitated. "He... Al has a body condition. It's kinda embarrassing and I really don't want to get into it,"

"Hey, that's cool with us," Dean backed off, "It's your business after all,"

"Yeah," Ed sighed and prodded his food again. He swore and pushed the plate away. "This isn't going to work. I need to take a walk." and with that short pseudo-farewell he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stalked from the Great Hall.

This time, like the last, there was a confused whispered roar that escorted him out the heavy doors. What had set him off this time?

Edward stalked towards his rooms. What had him so nervous? What had him on tender-hooks? It was simple really: the Colonel should be arriving soon. And with him Al. And when Al got here Ed would be making him a new body. And if that failed the chances of them both losing themselves to the Gate were depressingly high.

Could anyone blame him for being just a little nervous?

"Hey Fullmetal,"

Ed froze. No. Not him.

"Hello Colonel," he said, turning. His eyes skimmed past his taller commanding officer – in uniform, he noted – to the even taller suit of armor behind him. "Al!"

The brothers rushed towards each other and Al caught Ed up in a tight embrace. No one listening could possibly make out what they were saying to each other. Both babbled at the same time, not even pausing for breath. When they did at last wind down both were laughing.

"You're here sooner than I expected," Ed said a little breathlessly, turning to glance at the Colonel.

Mustang just shrugged helplessly, as if he had no idea how they managed it. If course, his innocent facade was ruined by the self-serving smirk that played on his lips.

Something occurred to Ed. He looked around. "Hey, where's Hawkeye?"

"The Lieutenant is watching our luggage," Al explained, "Colonel Mustang asked her to,"

"I see. Well, I suppose we should tell the old man that you guys are here," Ed frowned a little, "It's dinner right now. We could wait..."

"Might as well do this now," Mustang shrugged. Edward nodded.

"The sooner the better."

"Exactly,"

"Right, well, this way," Ed started forwards. A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at his younger brother's armor face.

"Brother... is it true? Have you made a Stone?"

Ed smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the small, innocent-looking crimson stone and held it up. "And no one had to die for it,"

"Brother," Al breathed, amazed that the culmination of so many years of work was now before him solidified in such a small gem. "It's so small," he said in wonder.

"Will it work?" Mustang asked, narrowing his eyes at the Stone.

Ed put the Stone back in his pocket, shrugging, "It had better," he said softly. They arrived at the huge doors to the Great Hall. Edward placed gloved hands on either one and pushed with all his weight. The doors swung grandly open.

Conversation stilled as Edward led Mustang and Alphonse straight to the head table. Dumbledore stood, regally waiting for his guests to reach him.

"Mr. Elric," the headmaster nodded.

"Mr. Dumbledore," Ed nodded back, "This is Roy Mustang and my brother Alphonse Elric,"

"It's nice to meet you sir," Al's childlike voice was at odds with the hulking armor of his tangible body.

"I assume that you will wish to speak with me after the meal?"

"That would be appreciated, yes," Mustang nodded.

"I shall have food sent to Mr. Elric's rooms,"

"Also appreciated,"

"Great," Ed said, shoving his hands into his pockets and spinning around to leave, "Let's go then."

"Brother!" Al exclaimed, hurrying after Ed, "Don't be so rude!"

"Give it up Alphonse," Mustang advised, "When does your elder brother ever listen?"

"Not often," Al admitted with and echoing sigh. Ed shot the two a halfhearted glare over his shoulder. Al ducked, playfully repentant, laughing quietly.

All in all the first glimpse the school had of the two brothers was very odd indeed.

* * *

Edward poured Mustang a cup of tea and handed it carefully to his colonel. The Flame Alchemist accepted it graciously. Ed offered some to Hawkeye as well but she refused.

"You have some nice rooms here, Fullmetal," Mustang commented and nodded pointedly to the overstuffed bookshelves, "Lots of books too, I see,"

"I found a bookstore," Ed shrugged and sat down with his own cup of tea.

"How did you get them all here?" Al asked from where he sat at Ed's elbow on the floor.

Ed shrugged, sipping his tea, "Put wheels on my suitcase,"

"Using alchemy," Mustang sighed disapprovingly.

"No one saw," Ed rationalized.

There was a tap at the door that interrupted anything Mustang would have said to continue. Ed set his teacup aside and pulled his gloves back on before getting up to answer the knock. Dumbledore was waiting in the corridor. The blond alchemist stood aside to admit the headmaster into his rooms.

"Good evening Mr. Elric, Mr. Elric, Colonel Mustang," he greeted pleasantly.

"Can I get you some tea?" Ed asked.

"Two sugars please,"

Ed nodded and poured the headmaster a cup, adding the requested sugars and stirring it before handing it over. Everyone settled themselves back down. Ed took the chair closest to Al while Dumbledore seated himself in the remaining one.

"Mr. Elric told me to anticipate your arrival, Mr. Elric, Colonel," Dumbledore started.

"Oh?" Mustang shot Ed a glance.

"Yes, he mentioned intending to recreate Mr. Alphonse Elric's body,"

Mustang nodded slowly, "Then you will understand when we request the use of your largest room,"

"Of course. We can have the Great Hall cleared out for you in an hours time if you wish to start so soon,"

"Brother?" Al looked up at Ed hopefully.

Ed shrugged, "Might as well get this done as soon as we can," he said fatalistically.

"There is two hours before curfew. All the students will be in the dorms then,"

"That'll be fine," Ed nodded, "It'll give me time to get my stuff packed up."

"Then it's settled. Two hours, in the Great Hall," the colonel decided, nodded definitively.

* * *

"You ready Al?" Ed asked once again. They had moved all of the tables in the Great Hall to the sides. Mustang, Hawkeye and Dumbledore watched from as far as they could get while still being in the same room. The two Elric brothers stared at each other.

"Let's do this, Brother," if Al could have shown expression he would have been smiling softly.

"Alright," Ed nodded and clapped his hands together. The sound rang through the empty Hall ominously. He knelt down and placed his hands on the floor. Blue light rose from the stone, settling into a complex array, one that Ed had been refining all these past months. Roy raised an impressed eyebrow at the intricate piece of work that spread more than twelve meters in diameter. It was a work of art, much more impressive than even the one they had used all those years ago.

"What do you want me to do Brother?" Al asked hesitantly.

"Well, we'll need to get the elements into the array, first," Ed got to his feet and headed over to the waiting material. Al helped him move the heavier while Ed took care of the lighter. It did not take them long to have everything moved into place.

"Now what?"

"Well, you go stand in the array and I'll get to work," Ed pulled out the small red stone the size of the last joint of his thumb and stared at it. While he was not a believer in religion Edward found himself praying that this would work, that Al would get his body back. He looked up and smiled at his younger brother. Steeling his nerves he clapped his hands together once more and fell to his knees, pressing his palms over the array, the Philosopher's Stone under his flesh hand. Once again blue alchemical light lit up the Great Hall, this time so blinding that no one could look directly at what was happening right before them. And the light held.

What was going on during the transmutation was frighteningly familiar to Edward. For a second he panicked. Was the Stone going to work? Would they both be lost this time? He could see before him that Al's armor was breaking up and the materials for his body were mixing together. When the disintegration of the armor neared the blood seal Ed was about to call it quits, scared that it wouldn't work and he would loose his only family. He could feel nothing from the Stone under his hand. It was doing nothing. He could almost see the Gate beckoning.

Just as he was bout to lift his palms off the floor he felt it. A sudden rush of power like he had never experienced before. The sensation left the prodigy reeling. His hands glued themselves back to the floor and Ed could not tear his eyes away from what he was doing. In the eye of the storm of now blue and red energies he could clearly see a body and a the seal that bound his brother's soul to this world. The red energy from the Stone forced the seal into the newly made body, tattooing it in an indelible way that nothing could reproduce.

Suddenly Ed felt drained, tired, exhausted even. He did not have the energy to go on. The blue light flickered and dimmed. The transmutation was complete, Al had his body back. Underneath his palm Ed could no longer feel the Philosopher's Stone that he had created. The spots that obscured his vision multiplied and the world darkened.

Alphonse Elric, naked as the day he was born, opened his eyes for the first time since he had lost his original body. He could hear the sound of rushing footsteps coming closer. What was going on? Where was Edward? He shivered and turned his head slightly, the movement almost more than he could manage. A good six meters from him Edward fell to the floor, eyes closed and his skin an unhealthy shade of gray.

"Brother!" he exclaimed, gasping for breath. Ed did not respond. Suddenly Al found himself covered with something warm, the blue fabric worn and comfortable. His eyes flicked over to see Hawkeye looking him over carefully.

"Fullmetal!" the colonel skidded to his knees beside his subordinate. He rolled Edward onto his back and check for a pulse. He peeled back an eyelid to peer into the unseeing golden eyes.

"Brother..." Al felt his heart constrict in fear. What was wrong? What was wrong with Ed?

"He's alive," Mustang declared. The relief that flooded through Al almost brought the boy to tears. He had spent far too long without experiencing emotions with a body. The difference was indescribable, like a candle to the sun.

"We should get the brothers to the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore suggested.

"Good idea," Hawkeye agreed, "Colonel?"

"Do it," he nodded, slipping his arms underneath Edward's body and lifting. For someone so small the eldest Elric brother sure did weigh a lot. The automail was probably what kept him from reaching his optimal height. That and his hatred for milk.

Riza lifted Alphonse the same way, making sure her jacket stayed tucked around his body, sparing his modesty. The newly made body was alarmingly light, not surprising but alarming nevertheless. She followed her Colonel who was walking briskly after the Headmaster.

* * *

Neither Elric boy opened their eyes again for another full two days. Alphonse was the first to see light, waking some time in the mid afternoon. The first thing the newly restored boy did was stare in wonder at his hand. His eyes moved up his arm before he threw the blankets aside to look at the rest of his flesh body. Tears gathered in his eyes and he choked back a sob of sheer joy. He glanced about the room he was in, trying to find Edward.

Ed lay still in the bed next to him, the only sign he was even living was the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest. Someone had undone his braid, leaving his hair to spill across his pillow under his head. Al noted that his arms and hands were still covered, hiding his automail from any prying eyes. He was, thankfully, looking healthier than he had right after the transmutation, a good sign.

"You're awake," stated Colonel Mustang as he strode into the Hospital Wing. Al turned his head painstakingly to face the State Alchemist his brother worked under.

"Colonel," Al said slowly, unfamiliar with working a body anymore. "How long...?"

"Two days," Mustang took a seat next to Al's bed and looked him over, "You're looking good. I wasn't sure Fullmetal would be able to pull it off but it looks like both of you managed to survive. Again,"

"Is Ed...?" Al blinked heavily, trying to focus his eyes properly.

"Your brother is fine. He's sleeping off the energy drain the transmutation cost. He managed to use up the Stone though. But Fullmetal should be up and about soon enough. Sooner than you, it seems,"

"Yeah," Al laughed quietly, "It has been a while since I had to move an actual body. Bet I'm going to have to start from scratch,"

The colonel cracked a smile. "But you two managed to succeed,"

"Now what do we do?" was all Al could ask.

"That is up to you two," Roy mustang said, getting to his feet, "Just tell that brother of yours that the military would be more than happy to keep him on if he wants,"

"I'll do that, Sir," Al said, smiling.

* * *

It took Al a week to relearn how to walk on his own. Ed had woken up hours after his brother, hardly able to move himself. When he could move he spent most of his time helping Al walk from one place to another, coaching him patiently. Madame Pomfrey stubbornly kept everyone visiting – with the exception of Mustang, Hawkeye and Dumbledore – out of the Hospital Wing. Not even the other professors were permitted entry.

Once Al could walk on his own he and Ed ventured from the confines of the Hospital Wing. Al was amazed at the complexity of the castle and agreed with Ed that it did feel like there were many bound souls surrounding them.

Almost as soon as they reached the min floor they were surrounded by a gaggle of concerned fangirls. Al was at a loss as to what to do. Ed just grabbed his brother's shirt sleeve and ran as fast as he could. The getaway was less than fluid since All was stumbling pretty badly, trying to keep his footing and keep up with Ed at the same time. It too a couple creative turns and hiding inside two suits of armor – the irony was not lost on either Elric – before they lost the girls.

"Brother," Al said, climbing out of his suit of armor, "What was that all about?"

"Not a clue," Ed panted, "The girls in the school are insane! Come on, let's get out of here before they realize they passed us,"

"Sure thing,"

And that was the fist glimpse that the Hogwarts Edward Elric Fanclub (Britain Division) caught of Alphonse Elric, taller, darker, slightly more masculine in appearance. An order went out with a prize to the person who could manage to take a picture of the two together. The unbound and unfettered zealousness of young witches frightened even Al and the brothers took to slipping from shadow to shadow in an attempt to avoid the girls.

It was a gesture in futility. A picture was taken in the library where they had hidden in a hard to reach corner, their heads bent over a map of the school as Ed explained the whats and wheres of Hogwarts. Al had just commented on something that had Ed excited when the photograph was snapped. This photograph would, in later years, be enshrined in some obsessive witch's house, framed and surrounded by candles.

"Al!" Ed exclaimed after chasing off the photographer, "I hadn't even thought about looking at it in three dimensions. You're a genius!"

The alchemical prodigy fell back into his seat and hurriedly sketched out the patterns the halls made on each floor, overlapping the floors from the dungeons to the highest towers. As he worked Al's eyes widened, watching in awe as the answer made itself so obvious.

"Brother..."

"Al, I think we got it,"

The brothers stared at what Ed had sketched. It was the most complex array either of them had ever seen, ancient in it's refining methods but beautifully constructed nevertheless. The result of overlapping the paths of halls was such an obvious answer that Edward wondered why he had not thought of it before.

"Well, that's one more mystery down. There _is_ a soul bound here. It's what's moving the castle around. It makes sense now,"

"Maybe it's the same with the portraits. Maybe the array is underneath the paint..." Al ventured.

"That would make sense," Ed nodded, "But I think that they'd object if we asked to dismantle a painting..."

"Probably," Al agreed with a wry smile.

"Pity," Ed regarded the sketched out array thoughtfully. "Oh well. I've already figured out more about this 'magic' than even the people teaching it,"

"Who have you told about the transfiguration stuff?"

"Just the old man. He said that even so they have to teach it." Ed sighed, "Sounds to me like he doesn't mind helping propagating a culture of thieves,"

"Well," Al reasoned, "Equivalent Exchange knows no morals,"

"Which is why it sucks so much some times,"

* * *

"Edward!" Hermione skidded to a standstill in the Great Hall. The four Amestrisrians looked over at the witch. Ed stepped forwards.

"Her Hermione, what are you doing here? It's the middle of breakfast,"

"You're going now, aren't you?" she frowned at him. Ed had the decency to look somewhat guilty.

"I'd rather it were kept quiet," he admitted. "Thanks for your help, by the way,"

"It wasn't any problem," she said, distracted, "but why do you have to go soon soon?"

Ed shot a glance over his shoulder at his brother and the officers. He smirked, making a decision. "Because if I didn't go home with the Colonel here the army would list me as either MIA or AWOL. Neither look good in the papers,"

"Fullmetal." Mustang growled, glaring at his subordinate.

Hermione frowned, confused, "Are you saying that you're in the military, Edward?"

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he shrugged, "just don't tell anyone. The old man knows but that's it. And he knows exactly why I was here. I trust you to be able to keep your mouth shut," he grinned and turned away, waving over his shoulder, "Good bye, Hermione,"

That was the last Hogwarts saw of Edward Elric. He flicked his braid over his shoulder and caught up with his brother and the two others that had come as well. With the careless nonchalance that he had become known for he led the way out of the bespelled castle, ready to go back to the life he had to pick back up.

"Fullmetal, What was that all about?"

"None of your business, Colonel,"

"Brother, be more respectful,"

"What? Give him respect he doesn't deserve?"

"He is your colonel,"

"Listen to your brother, Fullmetal,"

"Not on this one!"

"Would you leave Edward alone, Colonel," the cocking of a gun sent shivers down the spines of all three men.

"You lucked out on this one, runt,"

It was a good thing they were already leaving the school...


End file.
